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Post by Florian Raniari on Sept 10, 2010 21:46:19 GMT -5
Sastre stood outside the rundown little motel.
A warm rain had drenched him to the bone as he'd trudged along the streets of Atlanta, making his way toward the place that Carey was staying. It had taken a few tries, but finally Sastre had managed to get a hold of his old friend, and had even managed to convince him to take a drive to Atlanta, where they could meet and catch up. It had been some fifteen or so years since they'd last seen one another, and even longer than that since they'd actually been able to sit down and talk.
Carey Coulter was one of Sastre's last friends, a true hunter from the "olden days." He didn't know all of Sastre's secrets, but he knew enough, and it was time to enlighten him as to the rest of it. Mostly...
Now, standing before the door of Carey's room, Sastre tried to ignore the fact that he was soaked to the skin and freezing. The burns and bruises on his face were healing nice, though he still had a nasty limp, and his broken arm had yet to make any substantial progress. He smirked, thinking about how furious Madison was going to be when she discovered that he'd snuck out while she was gone...
Looking back over his shoulder, Sastre saw Carey's old Escalade. Yeah, he was here alright... He wished that the business that he had to discuss with his friend wasn't quite so dire, but at the same time, he was glad that he had at least one person left that he could trust entirely and without reservation.
Lifting his left hand, he knocked.
((tag Carey))
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Post by carey01 on Sept 11, 2010 21:18:18 GMT -5
Friend, it was a word that Carey wasn't too familiar with anymore, not having too many around him, only having himself. He was too obsessed with finding the demon, than to worry about a friend, it was probably the reason why he wanted to be on his own, since his friends might get hurt because of him. His only friend calls his phone, but Carey doesn't pick up, usually being drunk, or in the middle of a hunt that could bring him closer to his goal. Carey sees the missed calls, seeing that his kids call him, but he ignores it, deciding to just separate himself for now. Lonely was an understatement, they state he was in, he didn't mind, since he was too drunk to care at times.
Until, he was in his motel room, at Jacksonville. Reading some articles, along with a few books, trying to more information. Leaving his phone on, accidentally forgetting to put it on silent, hearing his phone ring. Carey decides to pick up this time, seeing that it was his old friend, Sastre. Hearing that he wanted Carey to come down to Atlanta, so they can meet up. He thought that he had some type of information on the demon, anything that could help him.
Quickly packing his stuff, loading it in his car, driving it to Atlanta the same night. He was happy to hear that his oldest friend was still around, and that he hadn't forgotten about him either. Times have changed, since the last time they were on a hunt together, now that Carey was a drunk, someone who was obsessed with finding the thing that killed his wife. He wasn't thinking as clearly anymore, which wasn't a good thing, sometimes put his own life at risk. In the car, he would remember the times, when he used to talk to Sastre. Share stories about their lives, even though Sastre was the type of person that would only tell you tidbits of information from his life.
Arriving at Atlanta, getting his motel room, going by the name of "Robert Creek." Making himself comfortable, Laying out his books, to begin his research before his friend came by. Looking outside every few minutes, he would see storm clouds fill the sky, seeing some drops hit the ground. Grabbing his bottle of jack, opening the top, as he pressed the bottle to his lips, feeling the liquor slither down his throat.
Standing in his room, hanging articles from newspapers, trying to match the stories, to see if they could give him his next clue. He could hear the rain start to get harder, being lucky that he wasn't stuck outside in the rain. Hearing a knock on his door, Carey grabbed his knife, just in case it was an unwanted visitor, he set the room, in case any demons decided to come knocking, having salt lined up at the doorway. Opening the door, he would see Sastre, putting his knife away. "Sastre, come in." He said in a low, serious tone. He would've been happier, if times weren't as crazy as now, but he wasn't going to pretend that things were okay, being that they weren't. |
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Post by Florian Raniari on Sept 15, 2010 22:36:27 GMT -5
The first thing Sastre noticed as he walked in were the empty liquor bottles.
They were everywhere...
His brow furrowed with concern as his grey eyes drifted about the dimly-lit room. Yep, everywhere, literally: on the bedside table, on the dresser, on the counter in the small bathroom even... There were bottles on the floor, and atop the TV set, and even resting in the windowsill.
Jesus Christ, he'd only been there what, a day, maybe two?
Shaking his head, Sastre moved an empty bottle off a nearby chair and sat down heavily, groaning a bit in pain as he did so. His wounds were healing nicely, but he was still sore, and stiff, more so than usual anyway. He had a lot of old wounds that made things difficult for him in his line of work, and it seemed he'd just have a couple more to add to the list.
He missed the use of his arm, though the sling did provide a convenient place to hide a blade...
"Carey..." Sastre started, once again taking in the sight of all the empty bottles. "I... I know this isn't exactly what we came here to discuss but... are you alright?"
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Post by carey01 on Sept 28, 2010 20:57:04 GMT -5
Carey felt ashamed, he was ashamed to call himself a father, or even a man. Allowing something like liquor, take over his life, just by looking at his friends face, it showed how concerned he was. It was true, that Carey was buzzed, close to be being drunk, but he was stable enough to listen, and actually think of what his friend was telling him. The bottles covered up most of the room, as most of them covered the books, that he had been supposedly using for research. Instead, he got too drunk, to even open the book. His night would usually result in him drinking, then crying himself to sleep, as he said Lilly's name in his sleep. He would awaken in the middle of the night, sometimes screaming, having nightmares of that night, which drives him to drink more. Carey would always remember, those eyes, that look that the demon gave him. It was as if, that image was engraved in his brain, just replaying in his mind.
Getting out of his mind, he payed attention to his friends injuries, then listened to what he had to say to him. The question, that Sastre asked, it was one that Carey couldn't even answer himself. He would always try to ask himself, if he was okay, but never seemed like he would come up with an answer. As he looked at Sastre, that was when, he actually put some thought into it, knowing that he wasn't okay. Carey looked around the room, as a few tears ran down his face, then looking back at Sastre, it was the alcohol that made him a bit emotional. "Heh, Sastre... I'm fine, everything is going great..." He paused, wiping the tears away from his eyes. Looking towards the ground, as he tried to lie, but knew that Sastre would know that everything wasn't alright.
He knew that this meeting of two friends, was more like an intervention, but he knew that Sastre must know something about what he was hunting, what he had been tailing for most of his life. Carey just wished things were, as they were before this crazy crap, but things never go the way they are planned. Wanting just a normal life for his kids, where they wouldn't have to endure what he, and his friend had to endure. The pain that comes with helping people, he wanted Jessie to grow up, being a regular woman, getting married and having kids. He stood at his end of the room, having one hand to his side, as the other was holding a small bottle. |
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Post by Florian Raniari on Oct 2, 2010 17:16:56 GMT -5
Sastre shook his head at Carey's words of "just fine," knowing that he'd used those very words himself often, particularly when he wasn't doing fine at all...
"I'm not going to preach at you Carey, and I'm not going to pry any further, but I do have a thing or two to say before we talk about what I really called you about..." He pauses, sighing and looking away. "I know what you're going through, Carey. It's been twenty-five years since I lost Solphi, but I think about her all the time. Right after she died, I lost myself in the bottle too... I did a lot of things that I'm... that I'm not really proud of. Horrible things..."
Sastre stood to his feet, pacing about the small room.
"After five years, though, I managed to climb back out, and you know what? I haven't let a drop of anything but water pass these lips since. In our line of work, Carey, especially at our age, we can't afford to lose any of our edge. We need to be sharp, and quick, both physically and mentally, and drinking doesn't do anything to help either of those things..."
He paused again, leaning against the wall and adjusting his sling a bit before continuing.
"I just... I want you to know that I'm around if you need someone to talk to, Carey. I don't have a lot of friends left, any more, and I'd hate for something to happen to you..."
Finished, Sastre waited silently for Carey's response.
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Post by carey01 on Oct 21, 2010 23:21:55 GMT -5
The words that came out of Sastre's mouth, just hit Carey in a place that hadn't been touched in a while. He too lost some he loved, but the affects were entirely different. With Carey it just drove him to be completely obsessed with the demon, finding ways to catch it, and kill it. The drinking wasn't helping, since it could possibly be his downfall. He just wanted to know, if what Sastre had to say, was going to help him in his search. Hearing him talk about horrible things, that he had done. Carey just thought about what pain he caused his children, all because of his drinking. It was the main reason, why his only daughter doesn't like to be around him. Thinking back when he threw the bottle at her, because he was too drunk to stop himself.
"Sastre, can we please just talk about what you came here to talk about..." He said with his back turned. Hiding his tears, while he held the bottle in his hand, just staring at the deadly liquid. Clenching the bottle tightly, finally letting his words get through to him, making the tears run down faster. It was like everything just hit him at once, as he thought about all the nights, that he spent alone with the bottle. It hadn't made things any easier, only used to having the bottle around, it became difficult to let go of it.
The more he starred into the bottle, the more started to get angry with himself. Gripping it tightly, looking towards a wall. Carey threw the bottle at the wall, using his strength to shatter the bottle. Watching it shatter as it hit the wall, the liquor was painted on the wall. "I can't take it no more... This damn bottle has been taking over my life. Things have been crazy, ever since she died, Sastre. It's just too hard to live anymore..." Confessing to him. Carey moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down with his hands over his face. "Your right... We are getting too old. I don't have anyone, my kids rather ignore me, and most of my friends are gone." Carey continued. Thinking if it was him, or the liquor talking. Wiping the tears away, as he tried to get back to business. |
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Post by Florian Raniari on Oct 22, 2010 19:49:21 GMT -5
Should've done something but I've done it enough
By the way your hands were shaking
Rather waste my time with you
Should've said something but I've said it enough
By the way your words were fading
Rather waste my time with you [/center] Sastre didn't even flinch as the bottle cut through the air beside him before shattering against the wall. He stared long and hard at Carey, saying nothing as the other hunter seemed to pour his heart out. For Sastre, it was like looking at what might have become of him, had he not cleaned himself up. He knew Carey's grief, he felt his pain... Everything that Carey had spoken of, Sastre had been through as well. He wished suddenly that the two of them had stayed in touch more over the years, and he wondered if his presence in Carey's life might have been enough to stem the tide of this deep, seething anger. "Carey," Sastre started, unsure really of what to say. "I... I meant what I said. If you need to talk, I'm here, right now, and I will listen. I'll help you, if I can. Neither of us have many friends left, and I don't want to lose one of the few I have to... to this." At that, he gestured around to the empty bottles that littered the room. "I don't have any other plans for the evening, my friend, and even if I did... Even if I did, this is more important." Taking a few steps forward, Sastre raised his good arm placed his hand comfortingly on Carey's shoulder, squeezing a bit. "So... Where do we begin?" |
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Post by carey01 on Oct 29, 2010 23:23:46 GMT -5
Standing up from the edge of his bed, wiping the tears away some more. Just feeling the anger being released, as he threw the bottle. All of his troubles lied in the bottle, which caused himself to blame himself, for all of those years. Drinking was an addiction he wanted to kick, but chasing after the demon that killed his wife, was an addiction that couldn't be kicked. It was safe to say, that it made him obsessive. Blaming the demon for making his life how it was now, but blaming himself for how his relationship with his kids was.
"Alright, Sastre. Let's cut all of this, I feel like a little girl, crying her eyes out, heh." He told him, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. It was his way of saying 'thank you,' since he wouldn't be the person to actually admit it, thinking that it would make him seem less 'manly.' He knew deep inside, that he had a true friend beside him, who was looking out for him. That was exactly what Carey needed, someone in his corner, a shoulder to keep him standing. Thinking back, he has a lot of people, who keep him standing. His kid, even if they don't show it, Carey knows it. Sastre, it was obvious since his friend set up the meeting, so he could talk to him. Even wife, who was dead, but her spirit was always with him.
Feeling his hand push on his shoulder, Carey looked up, seeing Sastre in front of him. "First, what do you know about killing demons?" He asked. As his facial expression was serious, still thinking about the demon, wanting to know what Sastre knew. Anything would have been acceptable at this point, which would help Carey in his search. He wanted to chase this thing on his own, not wanting to get others killed for his actions, but he needed some information.
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Post by Florian Raniari on Oct 30, 2010 19:34:12 GMT -5
Sensing that Carey was ready to move on with the conversation, Sastre could only hope that he had managed to help a little.
At Carey's words about demons, the injured hunter furrowed his brow, thinking. "Demons, eh? Well, I suppose I know just as much as any other hunter. I don't deal with them a lot, not since the Apocalypse-That-Almost-Was." Pausing, he leaned heavily against the wall, images of Solphi's violent death at the hands of a pack of demons seeming all too fresh.
"They're weak to holy relics, can be trapped by various sigils and symbols, and can't break a salt line. You can identify them by a slight smell of sulfur, if you're looking for it. Super strong, super fast, pretty nasty all in all." Stopping, he looked hard at Carey before adding, "And the stronger ones? You can track them by following omens, and natural disasters around the world. It's not easy, and its a lot of work, but it can be done."
He shrugged, chuckling a bit. "But you know all this stuff already, don't you?"
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Post by carey01 on Oct 30, 2010 23:15:18 GMT -5
The information that Sastre told him, was everything that he already knew. In hopes of learning something else, something that he must've overlooked in his research, which he didn't catch before. Spending all of the time chasing a demon, he had to be sure, he knew what he was going up against. Just wanted some more information on how else he could take it down, killing it once and for all. Whenever Carey was sober, he spent the entire day, trying to track the demon. Before the death of his wife, Carey would always make a few demon traps, having some rock salt lines hidden around. When that night happened, he wondered what happened, thinking how the demon got pass by it all.
The reason beside revenge, was that Carey didn't want his kids chasing after it, or it chasing after them. Thinking about Colt, his eldest son. He was old enough to remember, they were always alike, if Carey knew him, his son would try to chase the demon. He didn't want that to happen, rather sacrifice himself, for the sake of his kids. As a family of hunters, it would be impossible to avoid the life, but Carey would always think about what he could have done to prevent all of that had happened.
"Yeah, Sastre. I know all of that, just thought you knew more. I've been tracking this thing for a while now, but nothing... It's like it doesn't want to be found." Carey explained to him. Wondering what reason the demon had to hide, if it was even hiding. "I can feel that I'm getting closer, Sastre." He said with a confident smile on his face. Thinking about killing the demon. "You have to do me a favor... You cannot tell my kids about our little meeting, or what I'm doing." Telling him with a serious tone in his voice. His kids already knew, but he didn't want them worrying about him. The less they knew, the better. Placing his hands to his sides, moving his left hand to rub his chin. Feeling the facial, that scratched his fingers, being that he hadn't shaved in a while. Pondering on what he missed, after reading almost every book on demons, it all said something that he knew already, knowing he missed a small tidbit of information.
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